Finding My Fairytale
by Eden Kingsley
Summary: This is a modern Cinderella story, retold with our favorite Divergent characters. I kinda lost touch with writing for a while and this helped me get my focus back. It won't be a long story but it will be full off emotions, both highs and lows. I hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I'm not too happy about having to work on Halloween. Not that I have a party to go to or friends to hang out with, anyway. But one of the few joys in my life is handing out candy to all the trick-or-treaters who show up at the door, especially the really young ones. It reminds me of a time when I was innocent and oblivious to the cruelties of reality. But mostly, it reminds me of my father.

My mother died when I was a baby, so I have no memory of her. For years it was just my dad and I. We did everything together and he gave me anything my heart desired. The neighbors joked that I was his 'little princess', since every year I would dress up in a fancy dress, sparkling tiara and ornate slippers for a fun night of knocking on doors and asking for candy. My father would always dress up as my dashing prince and we'd go to as many houses as we could until my feet refused to carry me to another door. At that point, my father would lift me up and I would ride on his shoulders all the way home, leaving a trail of candy wrappers in our wake.

That all changed shortly after my eleventh birthday, when my father met a woman named Jeanine Matthews. They dated for a short time, and though my father admitted to me that he wasn't in love with her like my mother, they married anyway because he felt I needed a mother now that I was becoming a young woman. The day they were married, I lost my status as an only child as she had two daughters of her own. I would miss being the only child my father cared about, but having two sisters was an exciting prospect.

Our first week as a new family was amazing. We moved into a new house, large enough for each of us to have our own bedroom. It came complete with a large garden and a huge stable just waiting to be explored. We had a chef to prepare all of our meals, a gardener to maintain the land, a maid to clean up after us, and a butler who waited on us hand and foot. It was a fairytale come true.

Jeanine owned a temporary employment agency, and it brought in quite a bit of money. Once her money and my father's own large savings accounts were combined, we became one of the richest families in town. My two new sisters, Molly and Nita, were not overly interested in playing with me, but I was sure the newness of our situation would wear off with time and we'd become inseparable.

Little did I know, this new life would be over before it had even started. Just a week after we'd settled into our new home, my father became ill. Each morning I'd run in to see him, hoping he'd be better, only to find him in worse condition than the day before, and after ten days of being sick, he passed away in his sleep.

That was the day my entire world fell apart. I was devastated and yet, the rest of my family continued on as if nothing had changed. My grief wouldn't subside and shortly after the funeral, Jeanine moved my room up to the attic because she couldn't stand the sound of my constant sobbing.

After that, things went from bad to worse. It turned out my stepmother's business was not nearly as profitable as she'd led us to believe, so she and her two daughters went through my father's savings in just a few short months. One by one, the help was laid off until we were on our own. The duties of cooking and cleaning then fell onto me, as I was the only one too young to get a job. Jeanine and her daughters worked at the temp agency and for a while, we made it work.

Jeanine pulled me out of school when I turned twelve, insisting she could do a better job homeschooling the three of us. But after spending most of her time with her own two daughters, she never had the energy to work with me. She said I was too stubborn and too stupid to learn what she was teaching my stepsisters, so my time was better spent on housework, insisting that the real-life experience of keeping a home would be the only education I'd ever need.

As time slowly crept by, she became more and more cruel towards me. Giving me more work than any one person could handle in a single day and threatening to withhold my meals, or even to throw me out on the street, if I didn't comply.

Every day was the same and I'd cry myself to sleep almost every night feeling completely trapped.

It wasn't until my sixteenth birthday that things improved. At that age, I could finally be hired as a temp and so Jeanine agreed to give me a job through her agency. As long as I continued to do my chores at home and hand over a huge portion of my paycheck, I was given the freedom of working outside the house. The chores at home had become so routine that I barely thought much of them anymore and my new job was as an office building cleaner, one of the few things I was really good at. Despite most of my time being spent cooking or cleaning, I was very happy to be out in the world working now. Well, I was until tonight…

I never work evenings. I usually get up before sunrise to go to work so I can be back home before the first employees of the building even show up. I rarely run into anyone, other than a few other cleaning personnel. I'd gone out of my way, spending my own money on several large bags of candy for the trick-or-treaters, only to find that Jeanine had gotten me a job for the night cleaning up after a Halloween party at a hotel ballroom. She made it crystal clear that I had to be on my best behavior since some of the city's most important people would be there. I was even given a brand new uniform for the evening. Since it was a Halloween party, I was required to dress up and my stepmother thought it would be hysterical to put me in a French maid costume for the night.

I look at myself in the full-length mirror one last time. The plunging neckline and fishnet stockings are definitely going to make my job harder, but the hardest part will be having to work around the party guests. I'm not very good with people and try to avoid them as much as possible. Other than a small handful of business owners who consider me a regular, I hardly talk to anyone. If I screw up tonight, Jeanine will be upset and would most likely take my entire paycheck for the week.

"Well, don't you look adorable," Nita calls out as I head for the door.

I do my best to ignore her comments, knowing that anything she says to me will only be an insult. "Are you staying in tonight?" I inquire.

"Maybe. Why?"

I frown. "There are a few bags of candy on the kitchen table. I picked them up for the trick-or-treaters. Would you mind handing them out for me?"

Nita snorts. "You're joking, right? I'm not opening the door for a bunch of snot-nosed brats."

"I'll do it." I look up to see Molly enter the room, eyes glued to the phone in her hand.

"Thank you, Molly. This party runs till 2AM, so I won't be home till really late."

"Whatever." She replies as she throws herself onto the couch next to Nita. I hear the two of them giggle as I walk out the door, knowing well that the candy will never make it into the children's bags tonight.

Even though the hotel is only a short bicycle ride from our house, I'm chilled to the bone by the time I get there. The evening air is colder than usual for October or maybe it's this stupid uniform made of thin costume-quality fabric, cut high and low in places where it shouldn't be. I pray it will not fall apart before the end of my shift.

As soon as I walk through the worker's entrance, the smell of coffee beckons to me from the employee lounge and I pour myself a cup as soon as I hang up my coat. I've worked at this location before. No matter what time of day it is, they always have hot coffee available for the employees, another of the tiny things that make my life bearable.

I finish my cup and place it in the sink before getting to work. The party is already in full swing and a written list of instructions has been left on the table detailing what is expected of me. It looks like I am the only one working the party, but since the event is catered it shouldn't be too much work, the majority being the cleanup afterwards. I am expected to serve coffee, remove dirty dishes and clean up any messes caused by the partygoers. Other than that, I don't have too much to do till 2AM when the party is over.

I let out a long sigh, mentally preparing myself for the large crowd, and head for the ballroom with a fresh batch of coffee. Once I pass through the doors, I realize, coffee may not be all that popular tonight. The ballroom is equipped with a full bar, and waiters are already walking around serving alcoholic beverages of every color. I set the tray of coffee and cups on the hors devours table before weaving my way around the other tables, collecting discarded and empty plates at the half occupied tables. A large majority of the guests are on the dance floor, throwing their arms and legs in directions that would cause me to fall, while others are gathered at scattered tables chatting. No one seems to notice me, despite the inappropriate costume, and I'm relieved by this.

The entire evening goes pretty smoothly. I spend my time alternating between dishes and coffee with only a few spilled drinks to clean up in between. Although as the hour gets later, the party is getting rougher despite the crowd thinning out. The alcohol must be to blame and I hope it doesn't get too out of control before the party breaks up.

I finish washing a load of dishes when the music suddenly stops. I hear the DJ thank everyone for coming out and the sound of chairs sliding along the floor is amplified as people get up to leave all at once. With my tray balanced on my left hand, I head back out to the dining area to collect more dishes. The lights are on now and a majority of the guests are either gone or making their way to the doors. A few groups of partygoers linger in circles, talking and laughing, but I ignore them and continue with my work.

My tray is nearly full when an older man approaches me from behind.

"Nice costume?"

I jump since his sudden appearance startled me. I glance over my shoulder to see him looking me up and down. He pauses at my behind that is barely covered by the mini dress I was forced to wear.

"It's not a costume, it's my uniform." I reply, feeling uncomfortable. "I'm working."

"You mean you really are a French maid?" he laughs out load.

I turn to him with a sour expression as I add a final two wine glasses to my collection before turning to head for the kitchen. "Excuse me," I murmur as I walk past him, Jeanine's warning bouncing through my head.

I think I'm safe once I push past the swinging doors leading into the kitchen, but as I set the tray down, he appears through the entryway.

"French maids are only good for two things, ya know." He's wearing a sick smile as he takes several steps closer to me. "Cleaning."

My heart begins to pound in my chest as he closes the gap between us. There's a falter in his walk and his pupils dance as he tries to focus on me. I've never seen someone so drunk in my life.

"And…"

He's only a few feet away now and I am trapped between him and the sink. I have nowhere to go.

"Fucking!" He laughs like a maniac as he reaches for my waist. His breath reeks of hard liquor and his intent is clear. He's much bigger than me. I have little hope of escape once he gets hold of me, so I do the only thing I can think of. I grab one of the half-empty champagne glasses off the tray sitting on the counter and throw the contents in his face. This gives me just enough time to slip away and head for the ballroom where others will be, hoping he wouldn't be stupid enough to try something in front of a crowd of people.

"You bitch!" he yells from the kitchen before slamming through the double doors. Every conversation stops and all eyes are now on us as he runs toward me. He's holding his hand out to the side and I know now he's too drunk to think rationally. He's going to hit me in front of all these people.

The last five years of abuse flash before my eyes. Every time my stepmother struck me, she had the same look of hate in her eyes that this man has now. I never dared fight back out of fear of losing my home, but this time, I have to. I will not put up with a complete stranger hurting me. I've finally had enough.

He's running toward me, fist out beside his head, ready to strike. As he draws nearer, I extend my own fist and throw the first punch of my life. I connect with the side of his face and his form bounces away from me, landing on the floor in a heap three feet from where I stand.

I huge gasp escapes the remaining group and several people run to his side, kneeling beside him.

"Is he ok?" one person asks.

"He's out cold," another replies.

"Call an ambulance!" someone else screams as blood begins to poor out of his nose.

Before I can react, another man is beside me, holding my arms down by my side while he slaps a pair of handcuffs around my wrists. "Ok, you're coming with me." I pull my eyes away from the motionless form on the floor and look up at a badge on the man's uniform that reads 'Security'.

"What? Am I in trouble?"

The security officer looks at me as if it was a stupid question. "You just broke the mayor's nose. What do you think?"

I swallow hard as the dark-haired man leads me out of the ballroom and talks into the speaker mmic attached to his shoulder. "I've got her in custody now, sir. What should I do with her?"

A deep voice from the other end of the conversation answers, "Bring her to my office. I'll deal with her myself."

"Yes, sir." The guard looks at me again. "You are in for a really shitty night." He pushes me outside to a car idling by the curb and forces me into the back seat.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much to those of you who took the time to read and comment on Chapter 1. To my dear friend Eunice339, my beta, you make every story I write so much better. Thank you for everything you do to help me, and the confidence you have in my abilities. It means so much to me.**

Chapter 2

It is only a matter of seconds before I know where we are headed. The security vehicle makes two rights and then a left before the Heywood Building comes into view. This is another office building I've cleaned in the past. The building consists of several dozen individual offices and is rented out to mostly lawyers and private investigators. My job there had been only to keep the public areas clean, never the individual offices, but every door was labeled with a fancy gold nameplate identifying its occupant.

The security guard pulls up to the first parking space before speaking to me, "Do you have any last words?"

"Very funny," I smirk back at him, pretending to be fearless, but feeling the complete opposite.

"Ok, then. Let's go." He climbs out of the driver's seat and circles around to my door. When he swings it open, he is in a defensive stance. "Don't try anything stupid."

I'm tempted to take my second punch ever and knock this guy in the teeth. "If you were really that tough, you'd be a real cop." This guy doesn't scare me at all, he's just the hired help like me. It's the voice from the other end of their conversation that has me nervous.

The security guard doesn't reply and I feel like I've won a small victory, even as he shoves me hard up the cobblestone stairs of the brick building. Once inside, he pushes me down the long hallway to a corner office. The one and only office that doesn't have a nameplate on the door. _So much for a sneak peek of who I'm dealing with_ , I think.

The guard opens the door and pushes me inside. The reception area is empty. A large desk fills the spot directly across from the door and a half-dozen chairs are arranged against the wall. Upon closing the door, a tall man appears from another door at the far end of the office. He looks tired, and considering the late hour, I'm guessing was in bed before he'd been called in on my account. His tie is crooked, his dark hair, although short, is combed flat and he has bags under his eyes. Any thoughts of him going easy on me disappear after taking one look at his deep-set frown.

My mouth opens to speak, but he speaks first. "Are you kidding me? This is the girl that took out tthe mayor?" His eyes jump from mine to the security guard, who'd assumed an all-business position behind me. He wasn't speaking to me, so I snapped my mouth shut.

The tall man takes several steps forward and leans his backside against the reception desk as an intimidating smile lifts the corner of his mouth. "Wow. I'm surprised you didn't call for backup on this one, Peter. She looks like a real brute."

"She may not look like much, sir, but she knocked the mayor out cold. Even broke his nose. All in one swing."

"Hmm." Mr. Intimidating's smile disappears. "All right, Peter. Go ahead and un-cuff her, then you can go home. I'll take it from here."

"Thank you, sir." Peter removes the handcuffs then makes a hasty exit, never looking back as he closes the door behind him.

I swallow hard as sweat moistens my palms. "Will you join me in my office, please?" The man gestures for me to follow him through the door he'd appeared from earlier and I silently comply.

Once inside, he points his opened palm to a chair as he closes the door. But to show some sort of control, I ignore it and continue to stand. I was the victim here. I'm not going to let him intimidate me into cowering and taking responsibility. I'll have a better chance at getting this point across if I don't sit. Literally, I have to stand my ground.

"Have it your way." He circles around to the opposite side of the desk and takes a seat in front of a computer. He presses a key and the screen comes to life as he types something quickly.

"I'm Four. What's your name?" His eyes meet mine for a short moment before he turns back to his computer and types again. My mouth goes dry. I had every intention of not cooperating until I looked into his deep, blue eyes. If he weren't so scary, I'd find him attractive.

"Beatrice." My voice cracks and I have to clear my throat, "Beatrice Prior."

He keeps his eyes trained on the computer screen, filling out a form I assume. His silence is nerve-racking as his eyes scan the screen.

"And, how old are you Ms. Prior?"

"Seventeen," I squeak again.

He pushes his lips together and turns toward me. "So, you're still a minor? Are you expecting that will get you out of trouble?"

"Get me out of trouble?" For the second time tonight, something inside of me snaps. I can't take it anymore. I can't be treated like crap anymore. "I don't even know why I am in trouble. If this sleaze ball had been anyone other than the mayor, no one would have even bated an eye."

His blue eyes are locked onto mine. Something seems to be bouncing around in his head and I can tell he is trying to hold back whatever he's thinking about. "You don't know why you're in trouble? Assault is a very serious crime, are you not aware of that?"

"Of course I am, but what I did was not assault, it was self-defense."

"Self-defense?" Four leans back in his chair, contemplating my words. "I have several witnesses who claim you punched the mayor, but he never touched you. He called you a bitch, and then you hit him. Are you telling me a senator and his wife, as well as the security guard who brought you in, are all a bunch of liars?"

I have to look away for a moment as I try to imagine what it looked like to the bystanders who witnessed the incident. "They didn't see the whole thing."

Four licks his lips and tilts his head to the side, his expression softening. "Well, can you tell me what _did_ happen then?"

I close my eyes, not wanting to relive the whole thing, but knowing I have to tell this guy something if I expect him to believe me. "I was working. He approached me and said some things. I tried to ignore him and even walked back into the kitchen. He followed me and tried to grab me. I threw a drink in his face and ran back out to the ballroom. I thought with other people around, he'd behave, but he was so drunk…" I shake my head and squeeze my eyes close, trying to get the image out of my head. "I didn't know he was the mayor."

The corner of Four's mouth twitchesurns up. "How could you not know? Don't you watch television?"

"I'm not allowed to." The words are out of my mouth before I realize what I said.

"You're seventeen and not allowed to watch television?"

I can't back out now. He heard me clearly, so I answer as honestly as I can. "My stepmother doesn't allow it." He may not believe me, or like my answer, but there isn't anything he can do about it.

His cell phone rings before he can question me further. "Four."

 _Four? Really?_ It seems so strange that he only goes by that.

"Okay. Thank you, Joanne. Sorry to bother you so late. All right. Goodnight."

His eyes are back on mine now that the phone no longer holds his attention. "Well, Ms. Prior. I had a background check run on you and nothing came up. So, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here. I believe what you've told me. The mayor does tend to do some inappropriate things when he's been drinking." He frowns at me and hesitates before reaching into his back pocket. He pulls a pile of crisp one hundred dollar bills out and drops it in front of me.

I stare at the pile in shock. "What's this?"

"I trust this will cover any damages."

"Cover any…? Oh, I get it. I was never in trouble, was I? I was brought here so you could make sure I kept my mouth shut."

Four doesn't speak. He doesn't have to. The look on his face says it all. "Do we have an understanding?"

"I can't believe this." I can feel my temper rising. A load of emotions that I've been forced to keep in check for far too long are about to explode. "You were ready for something like this. Has he done this before?"

"Just take the money and walk away, Beatrice. Trust me, you want this to go away. You don't want the mayor as an enemy."

"I'm pretty sure it's too late to avoid that now."

"No, if he was drunk, he'll have forgotten the whole thing by tomorrow morning."

"' _Forgotten the whole thing'?_ When I was being escorted out of the building, he was being loaded into an ambulance."

"Don't worry about that. We can tell the papers he fell or something like that."

I slam my hands down on the table, unable to control my anger. "Is this all a game to you? Are you the guy they call in for damage control? Is that why you don't proudly post your name on your door? The mayor came after me." Tears start rolling down my cheeks, but I can't stop my mouth from spewing my thoughts. "He wanted to rape me. You should have heard what he said to me. And then, when I got away from him, he came at me with his fist raised, ready to beat the shit out of me. I'm a seventeen-year-old girl who was assaulted by the city mayor. He shouldn't be in office. He belongs in jail."

Without warning, Four is on his feet so violently that his chair is pushed back into the wall, leaving a dent where it hit. "I know damn well that he should be in jail, but that's not going to happen. I'm sorry this happened to you, but you need to let it go."

I want to tell this guy where to go. I am about to when my own cell phone rings. A quick glance confirms my fears. It's Jeanine. I am late and she'll be furious.

"Oh, shit." I finally sit in the chair and answer the phone with shaking hands, "Hello?"

"Why the hell aren't you home yet?" Her voice is loud enough for Four to hear on the other side of the desk. He sits back down and lets his head fall into his hands as he realizes this situation has gotten me into trouble and now to save my own skin, I could tell whomever is on the phone the whole story and then it would be all over the 8AM news.

"I'm really sorry, Jeanine." That's when an incredibly insane idea pops into my head. "The party ran late. I'm almost done with the cleanup. I'll be home soon."

"You better be. Or you can start sleeping in the alley behind the bank from now on." Jeanine hangs up abruptly, but not before Four has heard our whole conversation.

His face goes from anger to concern in a heartbeat. "Let me guess, your stepmother?"

I can't look him in the eye, knowing he heard the way she spoke to me, confirming my status as a nobody. Even if I did talk, who would ever believe me? Especially if there are witnesses out there who would be willing to lie to protect the mayor.

My gaze falls back on the thick stack of cash, taunting me from the desk. There has to be at least five thousand dollars – enough for me to run away and start over somewhere new. Something I've been dreaming about since my father died. I'd be free of _her_ , of my stepsisters, and of the nightmare that has happened to me tonight. I'd never have to see the mayor ever again. I could just disappear. But could I live with myself, knowing he might try it again in the future? Maybe even succeed?

I wipe a tear from my eye, before it has a chance to spill down my cheek. Four just looks at me, a defeated expression on his face as he hands me a tissue. His eyes darting this way and that to avoid making eye contact. That is until he notices the edge of a bruise on my upper arm. His eyes grow wide and he crosses over to my side of the desk before I even know what he is looking at.

He places one hand under my elbow and raises my arm. With his long fingers, he slides the cuff of my shirt sleeve up and reveals a huge bruise that I thought was sufficiently covered. The higher he raises the fabric, the darker and more colorful the bruise gets until I yank my arm away from him.

"You know what. I think you're right. I'm just going to take the money and forget this whole thing ever happened."

"Wait a second." Four bats my hand away as I reach for the stack of bills. "Did he do this to you?" Four grabs at my sleeve again, this time yanking it all the way up over my shoulder, and even then, the whole bruise isn't visible. "You never said he actually hurt you."

My mouth goes dry again. If I say yes, I'm lying; if I say no, Four is going to want an explanation. My arm starts to shake involuntarily and I begin to panic. My breathing suddenly becomes rapid and my breaths too short – I feel like I am going to pass out.

"Are you ok?"

I don't answer. I can't. I'm doing all I can do to breath without speaking.

"Ms. Prior?" His voice fills my head again and again. "Beatrice?"

My eyes roll back in my head as I try to breathe in, but I can't fill my lungs. My body goes limp and the only reason I don't hit the floor is because Four catches me.


	3. Chapter 3

**_AN:_ Thank you Eunice339. You are the best beta reader in the world!**

 **For those of you who are wondering, The Iron Soldier will be updated very soon. I have the next chapter finished and will be uploading it after some minor editing. Thank you for your patience.**

Chapter 3

I wake up to Four fanning me furiously with a manila folder. "Dear lord, you scared the shit out of me," he exhales loudly when my eyes blink open.

I take several cleansing breaths and the fog in my head lifts. "What happened?"

"You fainted. One second we were talking and the next you just collapsed."

"I'm so sorry." I glance at my watch and jump up as a wave of panic washes over me again. It's a quarter to five. Jeanine will be ready to kill me when I get home. "I have to go home now. I'm already in so much trouble."

"No." Four stands up beside me. "You can't leave yet. Not until you tell me where you got that bruise."

"I don't remember." I turn away, heading for the door when his fingers close around my wrist. "That's bullshit. You don't forget how you get a bruise like that."

I try to pull my arm away, but his fingers only tighten, preventing my escape. When I stop fighting him, he slowly pulls me back until we are only a foot apart. "Beatrice, please tell me. Did the mayor do that?"

I keep my eyes trained on my feet. I can't look him in the eye. If I do, everything will come out and my life will get even more complicated.

"Beatrice, look at me." His voice has gotten so soft; this can't be the same person speaking to me from earlier. He places one hand on either side of my face and tenderly wipes away the constant stream of tears that have begun to fall with his thumbs. "Please…you can trust me."

His last words ignite me again. "Trust you? How the hell am I supposed to trust you? A few moments ago you were trying to pay me to keep my mouth shut. To protect a man who obviously has a history of hurting people. I can't trust you."

Four takes a step back at my words, breathing out heavily. "Okay, fine." He walks over to the door and for a split second, I think he is going to open it and let me leave, but instead he locks the door. "I completely understand why you don't want to trust me. I do. But I'm going to prove to you that you can."

Four pulls at the knot in his tie until the short end comes free and he yanks it from under his collar. Then he begins to unbutton his shirt. The room around me suddenly feels hot, as I begin to panic. I'm afraid I might pass out again. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Don't be afraid. I'm going to show you something." He steps back further away as a sign that he has no intention of hurting me and though I'm nervous, I do believe him. I watch as he unfastens the buttons on his cuffs and then slides the dress shirt down his arms. He tosses it on his desk before pulling his white t-shirt up over his head.

He looks at me, head hung in shame, though I don't understand why. The man in front of me is exquisite, with a sculpted chest and muscular arms. My stomach does a summersault at the mere sight of him shirtless. He takes several slow steps closer before resting his hands on my shoulders. His eyes meet mine, locking me into place. I can't look away. I can only stare into the deep blue depths that are his eyes.

"I've never shown anyone this before. But I want you to see." His hands fall to his sides as he slowly turns away from me. What comes into view should be his perfectly formed back to match the perfection of his chest, but instead it is covered in scars – lots of them. They crisscross every which way. Some are darker than others and some are so deep – permanent crevices that mar the smooth surface of his skin like cracks in the Earth's crust. These are scars that will never completely heal, both physically and emotionally. My knees feel weak at the sight of these horrific marks and more tears pour down my face. He didn't say how he got the scars; he doesn't need to. The pain and the shame reflected in his eyes already tell the story for him.

"Oh my God. How could someone have done this to you?"

He turns around, placing his hands on my shoulders again. "I may not know you. But I know the pain you're going through."

I want to pull him into my arms, hold him tightly, and never let go. Finally, there's someone who truly understands what my world is like. But as quickly as the thought pops into my head, it disappears again. "Then how can you protect the mayor? How can you pay people to keep his secrets? You know more than anyone that this kind of person–"

"He's never hurt anyone else like this before." Four runs a shaky hand through his hair.

"' _Anyone else?'_ "

Four keeps talking, ignoring my question. "Usually he just talks a lot of shit. We've had some sexual harassment claims come up, but nothing like this." His fingers graze over the bruise hidden by my blouse. "I never would have tried to buy you off if I had known he really hurt you."

"Are you saying–" I sink into a chair, swallowing hard while composing my thoughts. "He's the one that hurt you?"

Panic overtakes Four's face, but is quickly replaced with an expression of shame. "Mayor Eaton is my father. He's been using me to diffuse his aggression since I was a little boy. I always told myself that if he was using me to blow off steam, then he wouldn't hurt anyone else." He breaks eye contact with me, unable to face me with this revelation. "I guess I was wrong."

Then the most ridiculous question rolls off my tongue. The same question I have been unable to answer for myself, but I have to ask, "Why do you let him hurt you like this?"

"I have no choice," he blurts out, but then stops mid-sentence as his voice changes. He regains his composure before speaking again. "He's a great mayor. The people love him. He's done so much good for our city, and he never acts like this unless he's been drinking…" Four's voice trails off. "He's helped so many people."

"That answer sounds a little rehearsed. Is that what he told you to say?" I'm surprised by my own bravery, talking to a near stranger like this. "It sounds to me like you have a choice. There are plenty of decent people that would be just as good as mayor, if not better."

"You're right. The truth is…I' am being selfish. My father hasn't hit me in quite a while. He made me his head of security because he knew I'd lie for him if and when things ever got out of hand." Four's voice hitches as he squats down in front of my chair. "I've allowed him to continue because he could pull my mother off life support if I don't."

I feel like I've been punched in the gut. I've felt trapped like this, too. I have had to put up with my stepmother's mistreatment all these years because I feared losing my home; I didn't think I was strong enough to survive on the streets. But Four has taken this abuse from his father to keep his mother alive.

Four takes my jittery hand, enclosing it in both of his. "I'm done protecting him. Now that I know he's hurt other people. I'll come out and tell the world so it will never happen to anyone again. I'll have him locked up."

"But what about your mother?"

"My mother is never going to wake up. I've known this for a while but couldn't accept it. I think it's about time I do." Four's expression is full of sadness, but a sign of closure slightly lifts the corners of his mouth as he squeezes my hand."

He pulls me into his arms, holding me in a tight embrace that we both badly need and my earlier tears of sorrow changeover to tears of joy. Four is going to break the cycle. He won't be hurt by this fiend anymore and neither will anyone else. I can't remember ever being this happy before, but it has come at a price. He believes it is his father that left the mark on my shoulder, and I'm afraid if I tell him the truth, he might not go through with his promise to stop this tyrant. It would be so easy to allow his father to take the blame for my bruises, but something inside of me won't let me lie to this damaged man beside me. Perhaps it is because we share so much. I can't add more pain to his already unmanageable load.

I can't lie to him, and I certainly can't take his money to start my life over. He's going to need it himself when his father fights back. And there is no doubt in my mind his father has top-notch lawyers.

"Four," I sniffle, and he finally pulls away. "This has been a night I will never forget. And you, you are so brave. I barely know you and I'm so proud of you. Promise me you'll go through with it."

"I promise. I'll do it for both of us."

I smile at him and dry my eyes one last time. "No, do it for yourself and for your mother, not me."

"But you' are just as much his victim as I am. I won't evenr bring you up. You don't have to get involved."

"Four," I place my hand on his cheek. "Your father didn't give me that bruise."

His forehead creases in concern as he shakes his head slightly. "Then who did? Tell me and I'll make sure they never hurt you again."

For a split second I consider telling him everything. Could he really rescue me from my old life? He has trusted me with so much; surely I should do the same. I close my eyes and try to imagine my life completely different, but nothing comes to mind. The truth is, I don't know how to do anything other than cook and clean. Without Jeanine offering me shelter, I'd be as good as dead. I'm not like Four. I'm not smart, or strong, or brave enough to escape even though that is what I want more than anything.

"I…I…I can't tell you."

"Beatrice, please, let me help you the way you've helped me."

"I haven't helped you. I didn't do anything. You made these decisions on your own."

"But I never would have gotten to this point without you."

I smile at him. "Yes, you would have. You're everything I'm not and you have an amazing future ahead of you."

"I'd very much like you to be a part of that future."

His last comment catches me off guard, making me want to jump into his arms, but I won't drag him back down to my level after the progress he's made tonight. My eyes close as I press my forehead to his. "Thank you…I'll never forget you," I whisper. But before he has time to react, I jump for the door, flipping the lock and throwing the door open before I run out into the hallway.

"Beatrice, wait!" He turns to chase after me, but stops abruptly at the doorway turning back briefly to grab his t-shirt and throw it on over his head. "We don't have to say goodbye."

My feet carry me faster now that I'm running through the empty hallways of the office building. Because I've worked here before, I know all of the back doors in and out of the building. I slip into an unmarked door that leads past the janitor's closet and through the employee's break room until I force my way outside through the side door that no one other than the cleaning and maintenance crews ever use. I take in a deep breath of fresh air while I look around to plan my next move. Four pushes through the main glass doors a moment later, but I'm already out of site. I hear him yell out, as I run down an alley back toward the hotel where I stored my bike, "I'll come find you when this stuff with my father is all over...I promise!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jeanine is angry when I get home, but since she believes I'm only late because I worked longer than expected, she claims my entire paycheck but never raises her hand to me. At least not right away. After an hour long scolding, I am dismissed to start my daily chores.

I am exhausted, but I know she'll never agree to let me sleep for a few hours, so I don't even ask. I just change into my brown one piece uniform and get to work. It's about two hours before I see her again.

I just finish washing the kitchen floor when she storms back into the kitchen. She comes straight for me, throwing a punch, striking me across the face. By some miracle, I don't fall when I stumble backwards.

"What the hell is this?" Jeanine slams down the morning paper on the kitchen table. With my hand on my jaw, I cautiously approach the table to read the front page headline.

 _Mayor Eaton hospitalized after fall at Halloween party_. Four had lied to the papers just as he said he would, so why was Jeanine upset with me?

As if she read my mind she blurts out the answer. "The article says he slipped on a spilled drink. It was your job to clean up this kind of thing, and now, because you're so lazy, poor Mayor Eaton is in the hospital."

Four had no way of knowing this story would get me into trouble. I shouldn't be angry with him, and yet I am. How could he jump to the conclusion that the mayor had given me the bruise on my arm? Why didn't he know it was my step-mother, especially after the way he heard her talk to me? If only he could have read my mind. I know these are all ridiculous questions. Of course he couldn't read my mind, no matter how much I wanted him to. I couldn't be angry with him, only myself.

My train of thought is broken when I hear a knock on the door. It's my job to answer the door, but Jeanine orders me to my room instead. I know that must mean I'm not presentable, most likely from the punch she'd just delivered.

I climb the stairs, heading for the attic, but pause when I hear her open the door.

"Good morning Ms. Matthew. How are you this morning?"

"I'm quite busy officer. What can I do for you?"

 _Officer?_ I tiptoe down and get into a crouching position so I can see the man at the door. He has dark skin and very short hair. His hands are hidden behind his back and he looks very nervous. "I am sorry to disturb you, but I was sent to check on the well-being of Beatrice Prior. I assume she's resting after last night's excitement."

I watch as Jeanine takes a step back and she crosses her arms over her chest. "I have no idea. I haven't seen that girl in months."

"Oh!" The officer looks down at the paper in his hands. "Well, we have this address listed as her last known address. Do you know where I can find her?"

"No sir, I don't. She took off with her boyfriend over the summer. I haven't heard from her since, nor do I want to. So now she's wanted by the police. That doesn't surprise me at all. She's a very troubled girl."

"Well, if you do hear from her, could you please call the police station?" He reaches into his shirt pocket. "Or better yet, this is my boss' direct line. We really need to talk to her and your help would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course officer." She takes the little white card from his hand. "I always cooperate with the law. My daughters and I are so grateful for your service."

"Thank you ma'am. Have a nice day." The police officer turns and walks down the walk, toward his car that is parked by the curb.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and before Jeanine closes the front door, I sprint up two flights of stairs until I get to my small room. I close the door and fall onto my bed for what is sure to be a short lived escape.

I want to run down the stairs and introduce myself to the officer. Tell him that Jeanine was lying and beg him to take me away. In fact, those thoughts go through my head every time I see a police officer. I have to get out of here. The strange thing is, the fear of the future is keeping me here. Can I really make it all by myself?

The unknown is petrifying, and once again I decide that the terrors of living in this house with Jeanine and her daughters is somehow not as bad as what I'd face out there. The mayor proved that to me last night.

With no hope for a decent future, I walk to the grimy circle window and peer out at the police car. The dark skinned officer is talking to someone beside the car. A tall man. "Four!"

My heart leaps in my chest as I watch the officer circle around to the driver's seat. Four is looking at our house, hands on his hips. In a burst of courage, I wave from the tiny window, and for a second I think he sees me. Then his arms fall to his sides as he climbs into the passenger side of the cruiser. I watch as the vehicle disappears around the corner at the start of the cul-de-sac, and then they are gone.

I turn away and my back hits the wall beside the window as I slowly sink down to the floor.

Jeanine burst through a moment later. "It isn't enough that I feed you, clothe you, offer you shelter in my home, but now I have to lie to the police for you?"

"I never asked you to…"

"You stupid girl. If you'd just done your job, like you were supposed to, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe I should turn you over to them after all. Maybe then you'd appreciate everything I do for you."

I know better than to answer back when she's talking like this. It will only get me another slap so I can do nothing but listen to her rant. Listen, and make her think I am remorseful.

"I'm very sorry. You're right. I should have cleaned up the spill before the mayor's accident."

Jeanine seems satisfied that her berating me is successful. "You're going to have to stay in your room for a few days, at least until the police stop coming by. I'll have your sisters handle some of your chores. After that, you are going to have to find some way to thank me for keeping you out of jail. You owe me big time now Beatrice." Jeanine slams the door and flips the lock on her side. As horrible as it is to be locked in my room, a few days without chores sounds like a vacation. I just wish I didn't have to worry about what Jeanine had in store for me later.

 **Four's POV**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" My best friend Zeke asks as he hands me my coffee.

"No, not really. I was hoping you would talk me out of it."

Zeke laughs at me. "Yeah, because you always do what I tell you to."

I smiled back at him, trying to hide how scared I really am.

"Seriously, what's this all about? I know you and your dad have had some issues, but moving out while he's in the hospital. Seams a little much, don't ya think?"

"No." I answered without even thinking about it. "There's a lot you don't know."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You told me there's stuff you can't tell me because he's mayor. But, why now? What happened last night? It's like someone told you you only have a week to live or something."

"Who knows? When this is over, maybe I will."

"What?"

I look my friend in the eye. "Let's just say, my father is going to be very pissed when he gets home."

"Damn you Tobias, talk to me. Does this have something to do with that girl we tried to find this morning?"

I swallow hard, trying to look nonchalant. "Of course not. I just want to make sure she got home ok."

"Then why did everything change the moment we drove away? You were 100% confident that you wanted to do this before we swung by that house. But now you are second guessing everything. You couldn't even remember how you take your coffee."

"I thought seeing her again would remind me why I was practically committing suicide."

Zeke stopped me from using that moment to walk away, swinging me around to face him. "Why are you doing this?"

I sigh heavily. I don't like lying to Zeke, and in my book omitting information is just as bad, but admitting to it is even scarier. I learned that last night when I shared my secret with a complete stranger. The thought of sharing this with Zeke is almost as terrifying as facing my father. But maybe it is time. I'm definitely going to need all the friends I can get when the shit hits the fan, and like it or not, Zeke is the closest thing I have to a witness.

I let out a long sigh again. "I'll tell you when we get to the house. You can change there before we start moving all my crap, and then…"

"Then?"

"Then we've got an interview with Sarah Brindle."

"Sarah Brindle? You mean that gorgeous reporter from the news channel?"

I nod my head.

My friends face lights up. "Alright. Now you're talking."

I can't hide my smile as I climb into his car.

The drive to my father's house is quiet. Zeke knows something major is on the horizon based on my solemn face. I should be happy. This is the day I free myself from the monster I've been living with for so long. But, that meant this is also the last time I will ever see my mother. The fact that I wasn't able to see Beatrice this morning made this whole thing feel like a mistake, even though it's what I've dreamed about since the first time my father laid his hands on me.

Zeke pulls into my long driveway and parks in front of the garage door. "You're sure about this?"

"Yeah. I stayed up all night packing. I really appreciate you helping me out."

"Yeah, I know you're just using me for the uniform. Don't want the neighbors to think your robbing the place."

I give my friend a solid pat on the back. "You know me too well." Now let's get this over with.

Zeke follows me inside and immediately dashes up the wide staircase to what I currently call my room. By the time I get up there, he's changed out of his uniform and is looking through one of the boxes sitting on the floor by my bed. "All of these going?"

"Yup. These six." I point out the correct boxes as I lift the first one into my arms.

"Any of the furniture?"

"No. I'm not taking anything he paid for. I'll buy my own furniture. I don't want to feel like I owe him anything."

"Noble dude, but I'm betting you aren't going to have a job much longer. Did you forget who you work for?"

I brush off his comment like it means nothing to me, another lie. "I can find another job."

Zeke looks around confused. "If we aren't bringing any of the furniture, then why did you need my help? You can handle these boxes by yourself."

"I need you to help me with my mother's hope chest. She left it to me in her will, but I doubt my father will just let me have it when she passes. I want to take it with me."

"Ok, weird but ok."

"It's not weird. That's all I have left of her. There isn't a doubt in my mind that he'll pull her plug as soon as he finds out what I've done."

Zeke's eyes grow wide. "You can't really mean that."

"Oh, I do. He's threatened me with it for years."

"What?"

"Zeke, my father is not the man you think he is. He's a monster. He's been controlling me by using my mother ever since her accident." I sat down on my bed, staring at my hands. "I knew she was gone a long time ago. I should have just let her go. But, having her on life support gave me hope that someday she'd come back to us, and things would go back to being the way they were before. Before he became the man he is now."

Before he could ask for more details, I jump up. "Let's get the chest and get out of here. I just want to be done with this chapter of my life."

Zeke doesn't say another word until we've finished packing my truck with my belongings. I swing the tailgate closed with more force than is necessary, a feeling of satisfaction rushing through me.

"Follow me to the hotel. We'll unload my stuff and then call Sarah Brindle to arrange a meeting place." I climb into my truck and drive out of the oversized three car garage for what I hope is the last time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Four's POV**

Sarah Brindle isn't quite as beautiful in person as she appears on television. For one thing, she is older than I thought she'd be. Her face is so plastered with makeup that it's hard to see the fine lines that cross her face, but now that I'm sitting across the table from her, it's much more apparent.

She promised us some of her time, but she has been on her phone the whole time so far. "I don't think she's taking us too seriously." I whisper to Zeke, who sits beside me fiddling with his fingers."

"How could she. We haven't been allowed to speak yet." He replies.

The reporter looks over at us from her phone call, annoyed by our whispering if I'm right. She finally hangs up and puts on a forced smile.

"I'm very sorry about that. It's a big story I've been working on for a while. I'll need to reschedule with you boys."

 _Shit. That won't work. I don't have much time._ "How big of a story is it?"

She looks back at me, not happy that I'd asked the question. "I can't tell you that." She begins to stand from her chair in the small café where we agreed to meet.

"Is it bigger than an abuse scandal concerning the mayor?"

That got her attention. She sits back down, pulling her bag off her shoulder. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't yet, but if you stay and hear me out, I promise it will be worth your while."

Her eyes look to Zeke for a moment, for some kind of confirmation from him that this is not a joke, but he just shrugs his shoulders and directs her back to me.

I can see she is intrigued by the possibility of what I might have to say as she immediately redials the last person she'd talked to on her cell and tells them to push their meeting back an hour.

"May I have your permission to record this conversation?"

"Yes." I say, squeezing my eyes closed as she pulls the tape recorder out of her bag and sets it up on the table.

I let out a long shaky breath. I have her attention, now I just have to get the words out of my mouth. I start by giving her my name, and then my real name.

"People call me Four. But my real name is Tobias Eaton."

"Eaton? As in a relation to the mayor?"

I nod. "Mayor Eaton is my boss, and my father. I'm the head of his security department."

Sarah glares at me, as if she wants to challenge my claim. "I wasn't aware the mayor had any children."

"That's the way he wanted it. He said it was for my own good, to keep me from the media. In actuality, it was to hide what kind of person he really is."

"Go on."

I look over at Zeke for a moment as beads of sweat form on my forehead. "Marcus Eaton is an abusive piece shit that doesn't belong in public office. The only place he belongs is behind bars."

Sarah's mouth falls open. So does Zeke's. I'm nervous I won't be able to get everything out, but now that I got my initial accusation heard, my words come easier. I tell her about the years of abuse against me and my mother. I tell her about the constant threat of losing my mother if I ever revealed the truth. I even tell her about the dozens of instances that I made go away with a large sum of money. The words all fall out in an incredibly long sentence. When I finally feel I've made my point, I breathe a sigh of relieve, knowing it's not my burden to keep these secrets any longer.

Zeke places his hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze when I look into his face. His eyes are glazed over, but he fights to keep the tears from falling.

Sarah leans back in her chair, digesting everything I'd just said. "This is quite the story you've told me Mr. Eaton. And I'd love to make it public knowledge so your father will be held accountable for his crimes, but…"

"But?" My face drops as I suddenly wonder if she believed a single thing I've said.

"Do you have any proof? Unfortunately, I can't just take your word for it. I don't even know for sure that you are who you say you are. If I ran with this story without any proof, I'd not only lose my job but I'd also get sued."

I nod. I knew this was coming, and thought I was nervous about telling my story, this part is by far the scariest. "I would be happy to have a DNA test run to prove that he is my father. The hospital staff can testify that my father has never once visited my mother in the hospital."

"That's not going to be enough kid." Sarah looks at me with an apologetic expression.

"Yeah. Well, then there's this." I stand, turn my back to her and lift up the back of my shirt for her and anyone else in the café that happen to glance over. The woman lets out a loud gasp as the extent of the damage inflicted by my father is put on display for her.

Zeke reacts similarly and starts talking as if we were alone. "Why didn't you tell me Four? I might have been able to help. You could have moved in with Uri and me." He can't suppress his tears any longer and I watch, touched by his devotion to me, as he quickly wipes them away before anyone sees his emotional break down."

Sarah stands and walks to get a closer look. I assume she needs to confirm with her own eyes that they are indeed real. She touches the deepest one with her fingertips, but pulls them away immediately after making contact with the scarred tissue. "You are sure you want to go public with this? We can't do this anonymously. Everything will come out. Everyone will know what happened to you. That's the only way we can guarantee your father would be convicted."

I lower my shirt, nodding my head as I turn back to her. "I know that. I will cooperate in any way I can. I do have one request first though."

"Of course. Anything you want."

"I need you to buy me some time. I don't want this to come out until tomorrow. I need to say goodbye to my mother first. After that, I don't care who finds out. I just want this over with and I want my father to pay for what he's done."

We didn't talk much longer after that. Sarah had us meet up again in my office where I was able to show her records of the payoffs I've made to keep various people from pressing charges or making a scene. I gave her as much information as I could, other than any details about the actual victims of Marcus' actions. She was thrilled with everything I gave her, assuring me that there was no way my father would be able to get away with all the evidence I presented her with.

She also asked a friend of hers to come by and take detailed photographs of my back. She assured me I wouldn't have to show my scars to anyone else if they were able to get thorough photographs taken, and that was a huge sense of relieve for me.

Zeke stayed with me the whole time, though he didn't say much. I don't think he knew what to say, but just being there helped me feel less alone.

By the time the whole ordeal was over, Sarah felt the need to give me a hug before leaving. I know she meant well, but I'm not a person who likes to be touched. No doubt another side effect of what my father had done to me. When she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, I froze up. She felt my reaction, and immediately regretted the action and I felt bad that I made her uncomfortable.

"This will all be over soon Tobias. You're doing the right thing. The mayor won't be able to hurt anyone else after this."

I nodded, not having any more words. I held the door open as she and her photographer friend left, then collapsed to my knees as soon as they were gone and the door was closed. I buried my face in my hands, demanding my body to regain control over my emotions.

Zeke came over and sat on the floor beside me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but every time he opened his mouth nothing came out.

"You don't need to say anything." I finally managed to say. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before. I just wasn't strong enough."

"It's okay Four. I understand." Zeke fumbled for words. "I honestly have no idea how I would have dealt with the situation if I was in your shoes. What I do know, is that I'm proud of you. Man, you are one brave son of a bitch."

"Thank you," I squeaked. "I don't feel brave though. I waited all this time to stop him. If I'd done it sooner, fewer people would have been hurt."

Zeke nodded. "You did it as soon as you were able. Some people may have never been able to do what you did tonight. Others would have just run off, taken themselves out of the situation, but leaving an opportunity for even more people to get hurt. You broke the cycle."

"I wouldn't have if it hadn't been for her."

"Who? Sarah? Nah, you would have found someone else to help."

I shook my head. "No, not Sarah. Someone else."

Zeke looked confused. "Who?"

"The girl I mentioned to you this morning."

"You mean the one who's house we stopped by?"

"Yeah. It was all her. She's the one that made me look at my life differently. She's the one that made me take action."

"Okay. But it was still you that did it."

I shook my head again. "That's not what I'm getting at. She is going through something similar. Someone out there is hurting her. I don't know where she is, or how to find her. I just know I need to help her."

Zeke set his hand on my shoulder and I looked up to meet his gaze. "Then we will. I'll help you find her."

I smiled at my friend. I knew all along I could count on him, and a pain of guilt took root in my chest. I should have trusted him long ago. "I was hoping you'd say that. My father is being released from the hospital tomorrow afternoon. I need to find her before that, because I'm going to have to disappear for a while after that. We need to get her out of her situation, because I can't leave knowing she is still being hurt, still trapped by someone just like Markus." I pulled a sheet of paper out of my back pocket. "This is everything I know about her. She has very little on her medical records, almost no education records past the fourth grade. I need you to see what you can find out about her. I have reason to believe her step-mother lied to you. Can you do this for me?"

"Yeah, of course. But what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to say goodbye to my mother. Can we meet back here at 6:00?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll find out everything I can. One of the girls in the records department owes me a big favor. I'll cash in that favor and you'll know stuff about this girl that you don't even want to know."

I let out a quick laugh. "I just need to find where she is. I believe that if I talk to her one more time, I can convince her to tell me who is hurting her."

"Sounds like a plan." Without warning, Zeke pulled me in for a strong hug. It took everything I had not to tense up like I had with Sarah. Instead I gave him a solid pat on the back and he released me immediately.

"You are a great friend Zeke. I owe you one."

"Yeah, I'll send you a bill later. Right now, we've got a girl to find."


End file.
